


Don't Sit Under the Apple Tree with Anyone Else but Me

by Oliolioxicodone



Category: Hadestown - Mitchell
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, also imagine Eurydice soft ball pitching an apple to Orpheus, and she just knocks him RIGHT OUT, good comedy there, lil sweet nod to ancient greece, orpheus brings her a snack but little does he realise HES THE FULL MEAL
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:46:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21857050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oliolioxicodone/pseuds/Oliolioxicodone
Summary: Y'all, go follow literal angel waitformereprise on tumblr dot com this was a little gift for her, she gave me all my rights and this is the least I could do to repay her. Stop clowning, go follow her now.
Relationships: Eurydice/Orpheus (Hadestown)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 47





	Don't Sit Under the Apple Tree with Anyone Else but Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [passionslipsaway](https://archiveofourown.org/users/passionslipsaway/gifts).



For the most part, Eurydice adored her employment at Hermes Bar. During quiet lulls, Hermes would indulge her with a wild story from his younger days. When Persephone was in town, she would herself at home on her favorite bar stool and the duo would chat about anything and everything for hours at a time between Eurydice mixing drinks. Best of all, she could watch her poet hard at work. Nothing enamored the young girl more than watching his fingers tighten around a pencil as he crafted lyrics or the intricate dance they did each night as he played the lyre. Technically, he was playing for the patrons of the bar, but it always felt as though his songs were just for her. 

However, there was one element of the job she hated: inventory day. Of course, taking inventory was fundamental to the success of the bar, but there was nothing worse to Eurydice than being stuck counting inventory in the cellar. During the summer months, one might suffocate from the heat and humidity that trapped itself in the windowless space, while in the winter she would bundle up in her outer coat and a pair of gloves to avoid freezing. Not to mention, every time whoever was manning the bar used the sink it was guaranteed the pipes would drip.

Orpheus could easily sense that today was inventory day as he watched his wife drag out her normally concise morning routine. Eurydice was a clever one when it came to avoiding tasks she didn’t want to do, to the point of it being comedic. Often the couple left their breakfast dishes in the sink, but on inventory days she insisted it was incredibly important all the dishes be cleaned before they headed to work. Same went for laundry, each shirt and pair of trousers had to be pressed and folded, despite the fact that the next morning all the hard work would be undone in a rush to get ready. 

Eurydice’s newfound dedication to chores, of course, paled in comparison to her attempts to seduce Orpheus to skip work and spend the day in bed with her. There was nothing she wouldn’t try. Hot, heavy kisses along his neck and collarbone paired with her delicate fingers running along his chest first thing in the morning, earning her an additional five minutes. Next, she would try walking around in her undergarments, bringing him their morning tea to drink in bed rather than at the kitchen table as a traditional morning would have. Finally, when all else failed and the couple was nearly out the door she would grab her lover by his suspenders and pull him down to her, whispering pleases between kisses. As much as the poet longed to indulge her, his fingers always found their way around the doorknob, the first step to getting the couple to work. 

As much as she despised these days, there was one perk to inventory, Eurydice could drag Orpheus into the cellar with him for company and assistance. The two of them created little games to make the work more entertaining, from estimating how many bottles of wine they went through in the previous month to competing who could make a taller tower of toilet paper the fastest. Whoever lost the previous month would be on counting duty this month. Hermes would often pop his head down and find the couple in a fit of giggles. The elder god would simply roll his eyes and return to the bar. Orpheus would also hum songs as he counted, and every once and a while he would pull her into the center of the cellar, wrap his arms around her waist and dance to his tune under the dim lighting. 

Today, Eurydice crouched above the floor, rocking gently on her heels as she took stock of the remaining cocktail napkins. “200…250….300,” she mumbled to herself, attempting to avoid losing count. 

“‘Rydice,” her lover’s voice called out from several shelves away. “You want a snack?” 

“300!” She blurted out as a response, her mind hanging on to the number so she wouldn’t have to recount. “Uh- yeah, why not, what did you find?” Eurydice asked as she stuck a paper marker between the last set of recorded napkins. 

“Well, I don’t have 300 snacks, just one,” Orpheus laughed softly, striding over with an apple in hand. 

“Here, I hope it’s enough,” he smiled as he tossed the apple down to her. With grace, Eurydice caught it between her two hands and raised it to her mouth for a bite. The fruit was perfect, a crisp crunch followed by a subtle sweetness. Audibly, Eurydice’s stomach growled. 

“How long have we been down here?” She questioned, standing up and dusting off her lap before making her way over to Orpheus. 

“Couple of hours is my guess. Mister Hermes only came down once, but I’m almost done in the back. How much is left up here?” He asked as he bent down to take a bite of the apple. 

“Not much just - ah, ah, ah! This is my snack, did I say you could have some?” Eurydice teased, feigning defensiveness as she pulled her arm back so the apple was out of his reach. 

“May I have a bite of your apple?” He asked politely, his voice no louder than a whisper. With his wide, puppy dog hazel eyes and soft-spoken tone how could she say no to him? 

“Since you asked so nicely,” the young girl said with a smirk, handing the fruit over to her husband. “Did you know in Ancient Greece, if someone tossed an apple at you it was a confession of love?” She mused at him as he crunched. 

“Wait, Orpheus did you just confess your love for me? Aww, do you have a crush on me?” Eurydice teased, her nimble fingers taking the apple back from the blushing boy. 

“I-I’m your husband! Of course, I love you!!” Orpheus stammered, trying to figure out how and why she always managed to make him feel so bashful. Eurydice sank her teeth into the flesh of the fruit, eyes glinting wickedly. 

“Still, having a crush? That’s embarrassing,” she smirked as she shook her head slightly, expressing a falsified disgust. 

“You’re my wife, ‘Rydice. We, we’re married!” He exclaimed, his visible confusion of trying to understand her logic spurring her on further. 

“I just, it’s very sweet but I don’t know,” Eurydice said as she looked her poet over from head to toe. “You are very tall and gods, those hazel eyes are pretty,” she admired him, her hand coming up to cup his flushed cheek. Her eyes lingered there for a moment, lost in the beauty of him. 

“I write pretty songs too,” Orpheus responded, tilting his head into the curve of her palm. “About a very pretty girl.”

It was Eurydice’s turn to blush. Normally she was able to brush off Orpheus’ compliments as just Orpheus being his lovestruck, romantic self, but when she allowed his words to sink in, butterflies made a home in her stomach and fluttered their wings. 

“Sing for me?” The girl asked softly, pressing her body into his as she wrapped her arms around Orpheus’ neck. 

As his hands found their way to rest on her waist, Orpheus smiled lovingly down at his wife before beginning to sing. “La, la, la, la, la-“ 

His last note was cut off as Eurydice stood on her tiptoes so she could press her lips against his. “I guess I have a little bit of a crush on you too,” she admitted, grinning up at her husband before pulling him down into another kiss. The remaining inventory could wait, the count couldn’t change that much in 20 minutes.

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all, go follow literal angel waitformereprise on tumblr dot com this was a little gift for her, she gave me all my rights and this is the least I could do to repay her. Stop clowning, go follow her now.


End file.
